The Underground City, page 13
Trying not to be obvious about it, Sir James looked round to where Archie Thompson was seated and to his amazement saw that his seat was empty. Where on earth, he thought, had Archie got to? He knew that the Ranger was on the other side of the aisle but there was little chance of attracting his attention from this distance! He shot a hopeless glance in his direction and saw to his relief that the Ranger was leaning forward and looking at him. Relief swept through Sir James as the Ranger jabbed a finger at the stage. Sir James mouthed the word “MacArthur” at him and received an understanding nod in return. Seconds later he saw the Ranger creep unobtrusively out of the theatre and, mind racing, relaxed in his seat.
While the Ranger, resplendent in kilt and velvet jacket (for all the men were in evening dress) hastened outside to call his carpet, Casimir and Lewis were still in the Gents arguing about the magic mirror.
“Just take me backstage, Master,” pleaded Casimir, “that’s all I ask! I promised that if you helped me get my son back that I’d leave you for good. Take me backstage and I’ll hide in some pot or jar and then, when the pantomime’s over, I can try and get Kalman out of the mirror. Please, Master!”
“I can’t take you backstage during the performance, you idiot!” snapped Lewis. “There’s a pass door but it’ll most likely be locked and if it isn’t then there’s bound to be somebody on duty to check who wants through!”
“No problem! I’ll make us invisible,” Casimir promised. “Just think, Master, you’ll be rid of me for good!”
“Yes,” muttered Lewis, “but you know, Casimir, I’ve sort of got used to having you hanging around.”
“Princes,” snapped Casimir irately, “do not ‘hang around’ as you put it!”
“You know what I mean,” Lewis grinned, totally unfazed. “We’ve been through a lot together and, well … I’ll be sorry to see you go.”
A feeling of affection swept through Casimir for despite being bored to tears at Lewis’s total lack of interest in anything other than comics and pop music, he found that he was going to miss him, too. “I’ll miss you, too, Lewis,” he said in surprise. “I can’t really think why, though!”
“Thanks for nothing,” muttered Lewis. He felt a trifle peeved but gave a wry smile, the comment was so utterly typical.
“My last request!” Casimir urged, seeing his smile. “Please, Master!”
Lewis heaved a sigh. “Oh, come on, then,” he said in exasperation. “Make me invisible and we’ll go backstage but don’t forget to reverse the spell so that I can go back to my seat, will you. Otherwise my mother will totally freak!”
Lewis promptly disappeared and, seconds later, the door of the Gents swung open and shut as he made his way to the pass door that separates backstage from Front of House. It was locked, as Lewis had said, but it opened to his gentle tap and he was able to slip through quietly as the door-keeper peered curiously around, wondering if his ears had been playing tricks on him. Backstage was a completely different world and he was immediately absorbed in its alien noises, sounds and smells.
Lewis made his invisible way towards the prompt corner where the Stage Manager, blissfully unaware of the mind-boggling surprises that lay in store for him, joined in the laughter as Matt Lafferty continued to reduce the audience to tears of helpless mirth. Lewis then wandered across the stage, looked at some of the stalls and went up close to the mirror itself, running his hands over the strange carvings.
“Don’t touch the carvings, Lewis!” Casimir warned urgently. His warning came too late, however. Lewis had never seen a magic mirror before and was totally amazed when a carved rose slipped under his fingers. As the rose clicked round, the mirror gave a slight hum as though its power supply had suddenly been switched on.
“Whoops!” he whispered, knowing that the mirror, in some strange way, had come to life.
“Well done, Lewis!” Casimir said sourly. “Now before you cause any more damage, perhaps you could find something for me to hide in!”
Lewis, who had spotted an Aladdin’s Lamp on one of the stalls, moved towards it. “Just the thing for you, Casimir,” he said softly as he put an invisible hand over its spout.
The choice of the lamp, it must be said, wasn’t really Lewis’s fault. He’d never seen Ali Baba before and wasn’t to know that in this particular production, the lamp played an important part. Nor did he realize that by putting a genie in it he had quite successfully sabotaged the whole performance — for between them, the magic mirror and the magic lamp were the equivalent of a ticking time bomb. A time bomb that, had he known it, was due to go off with a great deal of panache and quite astounding consequences.
Blissfully unaware of what he was doing, Lewis kept his hand over the lamp and felt Casimir’s presence drain out of him.
“Goodbye, Lewis,” Casimir said from inside the lamp. “Don’t forget, the invisibility spell will wear off quite soon! You’d better hurry back to your seat!”
22. The Hole in the Wall
In the depths of the Underground City, the clouds of stifling, choking dust raised by the explosion had reduced visibility to zero and all Murdo, Wullie and Tammy Souter could do was head in the general direction of the blast and hope for the best. Coughing and spluttering, they ran, hands outstretched towards the vault.
Tammy, as it happened, had done his work well. The side of the vault had been torn open and as they stepped through the massive hole they stopped and, peering uncertainly through the swirling clouds of dust, looked with awe at what had once been shelf upon shelf of neatly stacked banknotes. They were neat no longer for the shelving that had held them was hanging off the walls at all angles and the place was littered with pile upon pile of notes that had flown everywhere with the force of the explosion.
“There must be millions here!” Murdo gasped, his eyes darting round the vault greedily. “Come on, boys, help yourselves!” Pulling thick bin liners out of their pockets they started to pile the money in and, had everything gone to plan, would have made quite a tidy haul and a considerable dent in the finances of the bank.
The Chief Constable’s hurried phone call, however, had paid dividends and even as the noise of the blast echoed through the tunnels, a stream of police cars zoomed up the Mound, sirens blaring. They came to a screeching halt outside the imposing premises of the Bank of Scotland and passers-by looked on in amazement as dozens of policemen tumbled out of the cars and headed for the front door; a door held invitingly open for them by their own Chief Constable.
“There was an explosion a few minutes ago,” he said briefly to the Chief Inspector who headed the operation. “The bank’s security staff are just opening the vault up now.”
“Good, with any luck we’ll catch them red-handed,” answered the Chief Inspector as he and his men raced for the stairs.
Murdo and Wullie heard the sound of the vault door being opened and acted quickly. “The police!” said Wullie, totally flabbergasted. “How come they got here so quick?”
“Come on,” Murdo said. “Grab what you can!” So saying, he piled a few more armfuls of notes into his bags and hefting them over his shoulder, stumbled towards the hole in the wall. Tammy Souter followed close on his heels and together they took the steep slope of the little alley at a run.
Although they naturally assumed that Wullie would be following them, this did not actually happen, for Wullie, in his headlong flight from the ghosts, had managed to rip the side off one of his trainers and, in turning to follow the others, had stood on a loose shoelace. Not unnaturally, he tripped over his feet and in a spectacular effort to keep his balance, grabbed at some shelving. Several things then happened in quick succession. Firstly, the shelving fell off the wall; secondly, it knocked him unconscious and, thirdly, as a grand finale, countless bundles of banknotes cascaded downwards in slithering waves to bury him under a tidy pile that, at a vague estimate, could be reckoned in millions.
So it was, that the hoards of policemen and bank security men who barged through the vault door in a rush, did not actually notice Wullie, buried as he was under a fortune in banknotes. Naturally assuming that the crooks had flown, they made straight for the hole in the wall and then slowed in amazement as the light of their torches revealed the dark, secret alleys of the Underground City. It took their breath away almost literally for not only did the vision of the old, deserted houses stop them in their tracks but the alley was still full of heavy clouds of dust that swirled eerily in the draught from the open vault. They looked at one another in apprehension as fear curdled their stomachs. No horror movie could have had a more spine-chilling opening. It looked a ghastly, awful place.
“Come on, let’s go!” choked the Chief Inspector, flashing his torch up the steep little alley that rose in front of them. “Sir Archie said they’d be in here somewhere!”
The policemen scrambled up the alley but, as they reached the top, came to a stumbling halt as they met a sight that would have made the bravest man quail; for they were just in time to meet the army of furious ghosts that were out to get Murdo and could only gape in horror as the host of weird, horrible figures swooped down the alleyway towards them.
The sudden appearance of the ghosts stopped the policemen in their tracks; their faces white and set. Never, in their lives, had they imagined anything like this. Talk about a nightmare gone wrong. Their torches shone right through the phantoms as they came at them from all angles — even through the walls! Accustomed as they were to facing up to hardened criminals on a daily basis, no one could accuse the police of cowardice but this … this was definitely something else. They clutched at one another in sheer terror and backed down the alley as the wailing, moaning, screaming ghosts descended on them.
Murdo heard the noise and grinned. “That’s given the police something to think about!” he said gleefully. “Come on, we’re nearly there!”
“Nearly where, Murdo?” groaned Tammy Souter who was gasping for breath. Exercise had never been his strong point and he was regretting it now.
“We’re going to see the pantomime,” Murdo said.
“We’re what?” Tammy Souter couldn’t believe his ears. “You’re having me on!”
“You’ll enjoy it,” Murdo grinned. “Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves!”
Tammy muttered something unprintable and it was then that Murdo noticed that there were only two of them.
“Hang on a minute!” he said. “Where’s Wullie?”
They stopped and, breathing heavily, looked back down the eerie stretch of old houses that lined the narrow street. There was nothing and nobody there.
“We can’t go back for him,” Tammy muttered, looking at Murdo pleadingly. “We’ll run straight into the police if we do. And the ghosts!”
Murdo pressed his lips together. He knew that Tammy was right but Wullie was his buddy and he didn’t want to see him in Saughton Prison.
“They’ll have nicked him by now,” Tammy said. “Bound to have.”
“Aye, I suppose you’re right,” Murdo agreed, bitterness welling up inside him.
“Poor old Wullie,” Tammy Souter eyed him sideways. “Thick as two short planks but a good sort.”
As the sound of running feet echoed along the tunnel, Murdo moved quickly. “They’re onto us,” he hissed. “Up those steps, quick, and do as I tell you or we’ll be for the chop as well!”
The cellars of the Assembly Hall were empty as Murdo and Tammy, sweating under the weight of the bags they carried, made their way up yet another flight of stairs. Tammy’s eyes rounded in wonder as he saw the stacks of costumes, scenery and props that filled the place. Murdo hadn’t been joking when he’d mentioned the pantomime!
A quick glance down a corridor told Murdo all he wanted to know. The door between the stage and the audience was locked and a burly security man was on guard. He ran downstairs again to where Tammy waited. “Dump the bags over in that corner and put on one of those costumes. Quick now, fast as you can!”
Murdo pulled a pair of baggy satin trousers over his jeans and added a matching tunic that hid his sweater. “Put your socks and shoes in your pocket, Tammy. We can’t leave anything behind!”
“I look a sight!” Tammy muttered. “And what about the cash? We can’t just leave it here. Somebody’s sure to nick it!”
“These laundry baskets look just the thing,” Murdo said, pointing to half a dozen tall, straw baskets. “Put the bags in them. If anyone looks in they’ll think it’s dirty washing! With any luck we can collect them later!”
Leaving the cellars, they strode purposefully towards the stage and were horrified when a little old woman grabbed at them. “You’ve ruined your make-up,” she scolded, peering up at the streaks of dirt on their faces. “Where on earth have you been to get your faces so dirty?” Murdo and Tammy looked at one another warily as the woman made an exasperated noise. “Come in here this minute! How could you ever think of going on stage with your make-up in that state! Really!”
It was fortunate for both Tammy and Murdo that by the time she had finished with them, they were more or less completely unrecognizable for, as she shepherded them towards the extras, milling in the wings for the next crowd scene, several policemen emerged from the cellars and looked around, completely thunderstruck at having landed bang in the middle of a pantomime!
Murdo managed to keep a straight face as they mingled with the rest of the exotically attired cast but his mind was in turmoil. How had the police got onto them so quickly? Could Wullie have ratted on them?
It hadn’t been Wullie who had ratted on them, however. Wullie was still in dreamland under a fortune in used banknotes. No, it had been the ghosts that had given the game away, for Mary King had remembered Neil’s words and, to this day, the policemen present remember the look on their Chief Inspector’s face when Mary King had sailed into view and halted the rampaging ghosts.
“My good man,” she’d said imperiously. The Chief Inspector’s jaw had dropped in amazement and he’d straightened instinctively for, despite a difference of at least five centuries, he realized that he was being addressed by the equivalent of a Morningside lady of good family and a proper tartar at that. “My good man,” she continued, “we are just as anxious as you are to find the people who did this. We will help you all we can. My friends here,” she indicated the ghosts, “will show you where they might be hiding!”
The astounded policemen looked at their Chief Inspector in total amazement as he nodded and so it was that, five minutes later, a large, totally gob-smacked slice of the Edinburgh Constabulary found itself fanning out through the tunnels and alleys of the Underground City with ghosts as guides. The Chief Inspector gulped, hoped he’d done the right thing and, preferring not to think of what he was going to write in his report, set off with the old Codger leading the way, along a narrow street that apparently led to the Assembly Hall.
“That’s got rid of them,” Mary King said thankfully as she and the remaining ghosts watched the last of the policemen disappear. “Come now,” she said, looking at their fearful faces, “they’re probably still sealed up but we’ve got to be sure, haven’t we?”
The cellars of the Plague People, as she had told Murdo, were close by but although they had little more to do than walk round a corner, the ghosts eyed one another sideways and moved with a strange reluctance. As it happened, they heard them before they saw them and were seized by a sudden dread as the faint bubbling, moaning noise that seeped through the walls into the alley seemed to grow louder as they approached. Clarinda gave a shriek of fear and Mr Rafferty clapped a hand over his mouth in horror — for the blast of the explosion had not only blown open the vault, it had drastically weakened the sides of the houses. Their walls were bulging, weak and crumbling and they gaped in horror as, poking out from amid the streams of dust trickling down into the alley, they could see long, white fingers groping frantically through the cracks in the stone-work, picking and poking away desperately, trying to get out.
The Plague People! There was no doubt about it! There was nothing they could do to stop them! They would surely soon be free! Suddenly a long, thin, pasty-white arm crept through a slit in the wall and groped at the air with long, crooked fingers.
It was enough! The ghosts fled in terror!
23. Goblin Market
As Murdo and Tammy mingled with the crowd onstage, they gradually relaxed. Dressed as they were, they had managed to blend in quite well and if they kept their heads down, Murdo reckoned, then they might well get away with it. He winked at Tammy. No one, so far, had accosted them and although they both kept a wary eye on the increasing numbers of policemen that prowled the wings they were soon caught up in the action of the plot as Ali Baba attempted to rescue his beloved Morgana from among the exotically dressed slave-girls who were being paraded in the market before the tall, impressive figure of the Sultan.
Nevertheless, they almost jumped out of their skins when two huge, green monsters suddenly erupted from a tall, gold-framed mirror that stood nearby. It was only when the rest of the crowd shied away in fright that they realized that this wasn’t part of the act, for the wave of fear that rippled through the cast was genuine. Everyone stared in horror at the dreadful creatures, absolutely dumbfounded.
The Stage Manager clapped a hand dramatically to his forehead. “Where on earth did they spring from?” he hissed, furiously. “They’re not in the script!”
“What are they?” demanded the Chief Inspector who had been standing at his elbow, scanning the stage for familiar faces. He looked at the monstrous things in disbelief and saw problems looming. The ghosts were bad enough — but monsters as well! His heart sank. They were never going to believe him back at the station!
Matt Lafferty whirled round as the goblins landed with a thump in the middle of the stage, his nose instinctively wrinkling in disgust as the most awful pong hit his nostrils. “Help ma’ bob!” he muttered, totally astounded. He lowered his staff as if to protect the Sultan but could only stare at them in horror for the creatures that had appeared out of nowhere were not only unknown to science, but were also repulsive, stank to the heavens and looked totally ferocious!
